


carry these bones

by annafraid



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: barry has a panic attack at dinner, set before Flash Back, the westallen can be read as platonic imo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 12:07:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6469477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annafraid/pseuds/annafraid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry jumps a little, startled, as the door unlocks and swings open. There's Iris, hair twisted into a ponytail, wrapped in a jacket. There's a little bit of rain on her nose, and relief rushes through Barry like a dam finally breaking. "Iris," he says, a too-wide grin spreading across his face, and she kicks the door behind her and opens her arm for a hug. He holds on a little too tight, he's sure, but Iris doesn't say anything. She's nice like that.</p><p> Barry Allen's having a rough time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

       Iris is supposed to be here by now, he thinks idly, as he sets the plates down onto the table. He can hear Joe in the kitchen, humming something he thinks is Hey there, Lonely Girl. He drags his fingers across the brown and tan of the placemats, trying to force himself to concentrate, but his mind is far off, back in S.T.A.R. Labs. It feels like he's constantly distanced, distracted, living and breathing speed theories. He's practically started living in the time vault. Caitlin says he needs to eat more. He's going to eat, he promises. _After I finish this book_. Barry jumps a little, startled, as the door unlocks and swings open. There's Iris, hair twisted into a ponytail, wrapped in a jacket. There's a little bit of rain on her nose, and relief rushes through Barry like a dam finally breaking. "Iris," he says, a too-wide grin spreading across his face, and she kicks the door behind her and opens her arm for a hug. He holds on a little too tight, he's sure, but Iris doesn't say anything. She's nice like that.

       "Rough week?" she says, and he ducks his head, jaw tense. She pulls three wine glasses down from the shelf, her fingers smudging tiny circles into the side of one. She sets them down, and Barry pulls a fresh bottle off of the wicker rack in the corner of the room. He pops it open and starts to pour. He glances up at Iris, and she's watching him, like she's afraid he might crack. Like he's brittle. The thought has his fingers shaking a little bit on the next pour, Joe's glass sloshing dangerously past full. He rushes through it nonetheless, pouring his own, and he doesn't even notice how bad he's shaking until Iris pulls the bottle out of his hands and holds them still. "Barry?" she says, quietly, and he looks up at her questioningly, like he's not sure what he's done. He never is, these days.

     He doesn't say anything, he just sits down really fast and starts a mental catalog of the books he's read that day. Breathe, he tells himself, in between paragraphs.

_There are six types of quarks, known as flavors: up, down, strange, charm, top, and bottom._

He knows this. Why is he reviewing this?

_Up and down quarks have the lowest masses of all quarks. The heavier quarks rapidly change into up and down quarks through a process of particle decay: the transformation from a higher mass state to a lower mass state._

To calm down, he reminds himself, as he watches a stray drop of wine slide downward toward the stem of the glass.

 _Because of this, up and down quarks are generally stable (stable, hah) and the most common in the universe, whereas--_ Fuck. He can't remember what comes next.   _Whereas-- whereas--_

_Whereas strange, charm, bottom, and top quarks can only be produced in high energy collisions (such as those involving cosmic rays and in particle accelerators)_

High energy collisions, he thinks, and the wormhole flashes before his eyes, unfolding into a singularity in a flash of black-blue, like a horrible bruise--

_For every quark flavor there is a corresponding type of antiparticle, known as an antiqua--_

  The screen door bangs open as Wally pushes into the West's living room, a backpack slung over his shoulder and a folder tucked under his arm. Barry tries to remember what comes next. He can't. He can't, he can't. He feels his heart smashing against his ribcage, even faster than usual, neck pounding with a hummingbird pulse. 

Breathe, he tries to remind himself. He can't, he can't. He doesn't know _how_.

       He sees Iris, barely, out of the corner of his eye, start to stand up. Something dark, tall, moves to his left and he _bolts,_ and he's across the room before he registers Joe's "Hey, Wally, hey, baby," and, after that, Iris' startled "Barry!". He pushes back against the wall, and sort of slumps down, folding into himself like piece of wax paper, trembling.

      Iris and Joe rush forward, and she moves to grip his arm. "Don't," he says, breath catching in his throat as he hiccups for air, and his cheeks burn red, he knows how he must look right now. He squeezes his eyes shut, then forces them open, forces himself to take in the living room: the couch, the end table-- Wally. His fucking heart drops. The kid's just sort of gaping at him. He tears his eyes away and fumbles through his hoodie for his cellphone. The hoodie's not his, actually, it's Cisco's-- he'd draped it across Barry's shoulders a few hours ago as he sped through _Hyperspace (Michio Kaku)._ His fingers brush past lollipop wrappers on the way to the phone, and he whips it out, shakily punching the Emergency Contact button, and thumbing past Caitlin's contact toward's Cisco's.

     He presses the phone to his ear as it rings, doing his best to focus on absolutely nothing but the dumb ringtone. He knows Joe and Iris are still watching him, just like he knows Wally's looking between the three of them in utter confusion. "Pick up, pick up," he mutters, and he hears Cisco's "Hey, bro,", and he starts to breathe a tiny bit easier. "Come over, please," he asks, and it comes out a little quieter than he means for it to. "Sorry, what, man?" Cisco says, and he can hear some sort of music playing in the background. "Please come over," he tries again, a little louder, raspier than he wants. "Are you okay?" Cisco asks, and he can hear the jangling of keys. "No," he says, honestly, and he hears Iris inhale a little before Joe stands up, pulls her and Wally away into the kitchen. he can hear muffled voices, and his eyes slide open a little farther as he starts to relax against the wall. 

 _There are six types of quarks, known as flavors: up, down, strange, charm, top, and bottom,_ he thinks, starting again. 


	2. do we ever drop the dead?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cisco arrives and Barry and Wally have a little chat.

    As much as he tries to keep his mind quiet as he waits, his thoughts can't help but wander. He can hear the voices, whispered, urgent, in the other room. Iris and Joe are trying to talk to Wally, he thinks. Wally. Christ. He knows what he must be thinking; Barry's thought it often enough himself. _How long did he lie to you, Iris? How can you look him in the face after what he's done? How can you--_

 _Quark matter,_ he thinks, insistently, shoving the thoughts away. He runs his fingers through his hair, and tugs, hard, forcing himself to focus.

"--have no idea what he's dealing with," he hears Iris say, voice brittle,  and something tightens in his throat,  burns his eyes. Fuck.

He pushes himself up a little bit until he's sitting upright, just as Wally walks out to meet him.  His eyes flick towards his face, nervously, trying to read it. 

 _Integer spin,_ he recalls. _Fermions. Planck's constant._

Wally kneels down in front of him, takes his hands. "Are you okay, dude?" he says, and Barry kind of looks at him, raises his eyebrows.

"I-- god, yeah," he says, without thinking, sort of shocked at Wally's gentle tone. 

"So," he starts, and Barry can feel it coming. "You're the Flash." it's not a question, and he relaxes, leaning forward a tiny bit. There's no judgement in his voice, only a grudging respect. "I know--" he tries, "I know you're going through some tough shit, man, but-- we're family. I know you might not like me that much, but-"

Barry's palm turns up in a _hold on_ kind of gesture. "Wait, man, who said I don't like you?" He leans backward against the wall again, knots his fingers together.

"You were kind of.. distanced, I guess, and- _oh_ ," he says, snaps his fingers. He gives Barry a once over, looks at him, eyes all pupil, hair a mess, shivering every other second. "God, I'm so dumb, man, I'm sorry," he rushes, and Barry shakes his head, smiling at him weakly. "Not your fault. Mine."  Wally looks like he's about to argue, and Barry's stomach clenches a little at the thought, but Cisco rushes through the door at that _exact_ moment, and Barry starts to stand. Cisco rushes him, helps him sit back down, pushes the hair back from his forehead, smearing the clammy sweat that had started to gather there. 

   He buries his mouth in Cisco's shoulder, and he takes a shuddering breath, breathes in something he knows is Cisco's shampoo and detergent and sweat and the soft leather of his old car. Cisco wraps his arms around him, and holds him, hard, like he's afraid Barry might run. Who knows, he  might; he's done it before; but here, with his best friend in the entire world, he knows he's safe. He feels Cisco turn his head and nod, presumably at Wally, and he thinks he hears him walk away. 

"Wrath of Khan or something else?" he asks, and as always, his voice is a reassurance.

"Wrath of Khan is good," he mumbles into his shoulder, and somehow he knows that Cisco will  be there every time he needs him. 

 


End file.
